Sunday, 22 November 2015

business

(what do you do for money honey? ac/dc tribute gig, 24-11-15)

you see me riding round in cars
and hanging out in bars
i'll sell it wherever there's a dollar.
i dress in leathers red
in the car or on a bed
i'll suck your money clean right off the dresser.
so you can wonder all you like
if it keeps you up all night
i don't care, that's just more chance you'll come find me.

as for my kicks
and my dirty, dirty licks... 
my mother said to get things done
you gotta do business with guys who cum.
my mother said to get things done
you gotta earn your money from guys that cum.

you think i'm at your command
and the deeds that you demand
are taking pieces of my very soul,
but i can tell you honey
once i got your money
everything i touch round here is gold.
so you can wonder all you like
if it keeps you up all night
i don't care, that's just more chance you'll come find me.

as for my kicks
and my dirty, dirty licks... 
my mother said to get things done
you gotta do business with guys who cum.
my mother said to get things done
you gotta earn your money from guys that cum.

there's no mystery to this bitch
i'm gunna strike it rich
from schoolboy punks to beaks with big fat wallets.
from up here the view is fine,
close the doors and pour the wine
i'm the business, the pushing, shoving,
          grabbing, stabbing, kneeling, taking business.

as for my kicks
and my dirty, dirty licks... 
my mother said to get things done
you gotta do business with guys who cum.
my mother said to get things done
you gotta earn your money from guys with cum.

the wuthering

(wuthering heights, kate bush tribute gig 20-8-15)

there is a forever that lies in destiny,
a cold temper.
i have been here forever, wiley, windy.
                (heathcliff, cathy, come home) 

i am the sound of your childhood,
a sonata for sleepless nights
weaving a semi incestuous tale
set in a dark, dank world
lit with candles and desire.
                (heathcliff, cathy, come home)  

i let the sunshine come
but softly, and sometimes, 
and then i bring the wuthering
to rip through your guts
like the slice of the knife
and you just cannot seem
to find your way home.
                (heathcliff, cathy, come home) 

windows keep you from each other
but not from the nightmares,
bad dream madness that reduces 
you to capes in the night.
and only the earth can put it right 
only death can unite this unholy coupling.
                (heathcliff, cathy, come home) 

you think that love is noble
but i am black crow sick.
i am the tempest, hot and greedy,
and it is a poisoned morning
that makes me take you,
ripping across your trembles and sighs
to make them wrack every damn window.

                (heathcliff, cathy, come home)

i can give you moments, 
but not years,
i can give you forever, 
but not now.
love will lift you up
but the devil drags you 
down to me. 
                (heathcliff, cathy, come home) 


  

Wednesday, 8 April 2015

celebrate

the officer said
"you should always try
to celebrate the victories"
we will be the hollow winners
over being stuffed in a car boot
or down a back alley
we will be a walking testimony
through the parks and streets
without it being in memorial
we will be the warrior women
(and the weapons that i carry
make me bold)
and if ever there's a time to hold
our heads high it is now.

nightmare #1

it started in nightmares
there were always crowds
and the crowds were always festive
often there was food involved
long tables lavished with plates
and platters full of every food group
the message seemed to be
nourish the humans
(while there's still time)
sometimes they were outside
in the parklands, where the
melancholic nightbirds and
rustling undergrowth
did not dampen the
celebratory spirit
i clearly remember the feasting
i was gorging with the best of them
the rest of them
until all of them
turned into vampires.
it is a very real fear
in dreams
hot body spasms
and it's not so much 
their vampire teeth
and catacomb breath
as the thrill that shines
from behind their eyes
as they swoop,
and i run.

Tuesday, 7 April 2015

ode to my gut

in facing the fear 
i find myself wanting 
wanting the paralysis
to stop wracking
my body
wanting to reach out 
for anything with meaning 
wanting, even, to do
penance for my lacking...
it comes from my core
you see 
i let my gut 
control my every move 
it wants nothing 
but attention. 

queen of my nieces

i only have a very short time
to be queen of my nieces,
where i get to blow bubbles
on heir tummies,
whisper christopher robin
in their ears,
tell them stories they don't 
understand yet
but one day will.

it's our time to dress up
in butterflies and gumboots,
tiaras and tulle,
the time to sell mudpies for $500
and for falling over on the grass
cos you've spun too fast in excitement.
it's a time to sit close on the sofa
reading books about bears
and reluctant cats who complain loudly.

already you are changing
as i try to catch your attentions
with treasures from the past,
the art and the music that moved me
as we paste and draw and climb trees
and drink tea made of sand
in the fantasyland
where i'm queen of my nieces.

Saturday, 4 April 2015

no headstone

the stonemason's grave
has no headstone 
the pictures you drew 
have no heart
the night creatures prowl
the streets that i wander
the saints that i follow 
are getting me lost. 

i imagine the blood 
the moon must carry
i return to the earth 
for surrender
the wind fills my ears,
without my permission
and i cannot forget 
the stonemason's grave.